Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 40

  INCARCERATION

  When I got back to the office late Monday, Jodie advised me that Paula had left a message with Maria that she had arrived safely in Tortola and was going to do some research for her meeting with Johansen. I really wanted to talk to her, so I tried to call her at the hotel but the desk clerk said she wasn't in. My desk was overrun with neglected work, unopened mail, and stacks of phone messages. I considered ignoring it and going home, but I knew I'd regret that in the morning, so I took a deep breath and started sorting through it. Before she went home, Jodie brought me in an extra Jumbo Jack and fries she hadn't eaten at lunch. I thanked her and she left me hard at work.

  The next time I looked up I was startled to see it was nearly nine o'clock. I called Rebekah and told her I'd be home soon. Before I left, I tried Paula at her hotel one more time, but she still didn't answer. I was starting to get worried. It was 11:00 p.m. in Tortola. I couldn't imagine her still being out at that hour when she had a morning appointment the next day. Reluctantly, I shut down my computer and went home.

  Peter met me at the door. He had just returned from Steven Caldwell's acquittal party and wanted to tell me about it.

  "I thought you were going to come," Peter said.

  I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I forgot about it. I got so wrapped up in work it just slipped my mind."

  "I wish you'd have been there. It was a great party. Mrs. Falk went all out. You should have seen the food."

  "Well, she almost lost her son. I'd be celebrating too."

  "You must be tired. Why did you work so late?"

  "Unfortunately, there wasn't anybody at the office doing my work while I was gone."

  "Hmm. That sucks."

  "Tell me about it. . . . Hey, I've got a proposition for you."

  "What's that?" Peter asked.

  "I'm intrigued by your Cactus Island story. Oh, and by the way, you did a great job telling the story to the jury. Thank you for doing that."

  Peter smiled proudly. "No problem. It was cool. All my friends said they heard about it on the TV. Even Michelle talked to me and before I testified she didn't know I was alive."

  "Wow. Your popularity rating went up, huh?"

  He grinned and replied. "I guess."

  "Anyway. I'd like to find out if there really is a cave that leads from the shore to Cactus Island. It seems that some oil operator a few years back claimed one showed up on a geological survey he commissioned."

  "Really? But I thought you didn't believe in the alien landings," Peter asked.

  "I don't know. Like I said, I'm intrigued now, so I thought maybe you and I could check into it."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "I'm trying to locate a copy of the geological report showing the caves. If I get it, we'll have to go out to Possum Kingdom Lake and try to find it."

  "But what if there are aliens landing at Cactus Island and they don't like us messing around in their caves?"

  I laughed. "I thought you didn't believe in aliens."

  "I don't but—"

  He shrugged and went up stairs to his room and I continued on to the living room where Rebekah was watching TV. She looked up and smiled. "Well, the stranger returns."

  "Yeah, the tired stranger. I think I'll just sleep straight on through until dinner tomorrow night, okay?"

  I sat down next to her and took her hand in mine.

  "Speaking of dinner, did you eat?" she asked.

  "Yeah, I had a hamburger and some fries."

  "If you'd have come home, I'd have cooked you something more nutritious."

  "I know, but I wanted to clean off my desk and make sure there wasn't anything critical that needed to be done."

  "Are you going to take a couple days off now that the trial is over, I hope?"

  "Yeah, I think I can take tomorrow off at least. We can sleep late and go out for breakfast."

  Rebekah smiled. "That sounds good. I've missed you."

  "Me too," I said leaning over and kissing her.

  It felt good to be home after spending a week and a half away. I was so glad the Cheryl Windsor trial would be in Dallas, so we didn't have to live out of a suitcase and eat take-out. Rebekah stood up and led me into the bedroom. I was too tired for sex but Rebekah wanted to make up for lost time. So we did. Afterward Rebekah fell asleep quickly, but I lay awake worrying about Paula. I wondered if she was back in her room yet. I prayed she was.

  The next morning I called Paula's hotel again only to find out that she'd left in a cab to go downtown. That made me feel better. At least I knew she was safe. After the kids were off to school, Rebekah and I went to Poor Richard's Café in Plano which was one of our favorite places for breakfast. We ate too much as usual. In the afternoon we went to a matinee and spent some time at the mall. When we got home, I called the office to see if anyone had talked to Paula. They hadn't.

  "I'm worried about Paula," I said to Rebekah as I hung up the phone.

  "She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

  "Sure she can, but if Martin Windsor is alive and trying to play dead, he may not like Paula snooping around. I wish she'd taken Paul with her."

  "Don't worry. She'll be fine."

  When the kids got back from school, we discussed taking the whole family out for dinner. We were having trouble getting a consensus on where to go when the telephone rang. It was a long distance call from Tortola.

  "Yes, this is Stan Turner."

  "Mr. Turner. This is Art Wright. I'm calling from the American Embassy in Tortola, British Virgin Islands. I'm afraid we have a situation involving your partner."

  "Paula? Is she all right?"

  "Well, I think she's physically okay, but she's in custody."

  "In custody? What do you mean?"

  "Well, the local authorities found her passed out in her room this afternoon. She apparently had a reaction to some drugs she took. There were needle marks in her arm."

  "What? You've got to be kidding. I guarantee you Paula does not do drugs. This has got to be some kind of a mistake."

  "Well, the drugs aren't the real problem. I understand she's representing a Cheryl Windsor in a murder case in Dallas."

  "Yes, that's right."

  "Well, it seems the authorities found a briefcase containing $500,000 cash and all the account and access information for another $3.2 million that belonged to Martin and Cheryl Windsor. Your prosecutor in Dallas has asked the local authorities to detain Ms. Waters."

  "But why? She was just picking up the money for our client!"

  "Yes, but it seems they also found an airline ticket to Santiago, Chile. Your prosecutor, Mr. Wilkerson, believes Ms. Waters planned to help Ms. Windsor escape the country."

  "That's ridiculous. This has got to be a set up. I know Paula. She would never dream of doing something like that."

  "Nevertheless, Mr. Wilkerson has asked us to hold Ms. Waters so they can initiate an extradition proceeding."

  "Oh, Jesus! . . . Okay, thank you for contacting me. I'll start working on something from this end. I may fly down there later today or tomorrow. Are you sure Paula is okay?"

  "Yes, she has a few cuts and scratches but aside from that she appears to be fine."

  My hand shook as I hung up the phone. I refused to believe Paula was helping Cheryl skip the country. That didn't make any sense. What was going on? My heart pounded and I could feel my blood pressure rising. Rebekah gave me a concerned look. "Are you all right?"

  I told her the news. She was nearly as shocked as I was. I told her we'd have to take a rain check on dinner and then called Paul Thayer and Jodie. We agreed to meet at the office and try to analyze what had happened and come up with a strategy to deal with it. Cheryl's trial was less than two weeks away and now with Paula in custody I'd have to shoulder the burden of Cheryl's defense alone. I grabbed my briefcase, kissed Rebekah goodbye, and drove to the office. All I could think about was Paula in some filthy, rat infested jail cell. I had to get her out of there—and
fast.